A collection of thoughts from New York City

Updated 1:42 pm, Friday, October 5, 2012

NEW YORK CITY - Well, I've spent several days here among the skyscrapers and haven't seen much I haven't told you about before. So, I think I'll just pass along some excerpts from my notebook.

Like this one: Best thing I've eaten in this city was a bowl (three big scoops) of vanilla bean ice cream. Worst thing: Two slices of cold eggplant pizza.

Reminder to myself: Try to find out how many pedestrians are struck down per day by Manhattan taxis.

My bum knee is throbbing, so I can't walk much. Serious disadvantage. Walking is the foremost human activity here. Next to tipping.

Our hotel's way downtown, near Battery Park. Which is not our favorite part of New York, but we came to see the new grandchild, and this is where he lives.

My entertainment on this trip: Stand at hotel window, watch boat traffic in New York Harbor. Lots of sailboats. Some listing way, way over in gusty winds. Surely one will swamp soon. If it happens, I'll have good seat to watch the rescue.

Haven't seen anybody from home yet. Did see my friend Mel walking on Pearl Street. Almost yelled at him. Saw he wasn't Mel.

The Statue of Liberty is green. Did you know that?

Here's what two women say when viewing their week-old grandbaby: "Look at that little hand … look at that little foot … look at that little nose."

My partner says that when we come to New York, I always write too much about the cost of things. Well, I write about what gets my attention. Such as money leaving my pockets. If you've never spent a night in a Manhattan hotel, guess what a room costs. Now multiply that figure by three. No, by four. This may be a good place to live, but you wouldn't want to visit here.

In a hotel lounge (I was in there for the music), I asked the bartender about the price of martinis. He said $12. I asked how many a customer got for that. He said one.

Breakfast muffins and coffee cake are so good here at almost any little hole-in-the-wall shop. I'm in love with a certain chocolate-chip muffin. (See if they'll let me take a dozen on the airplane going home.)

Think of this: Every day, for years and years, hundreds and hundreds of people have lined up on the docks in Battery Park to ride a boat into New York Harbor to be near the Statue of Liberty.

Then here's an important discovery: Houston Texans were playing Tennessee Titans, but TV coverage for that game was not available in our hotel. I know, there are bars and restaurants in Manhattan where you can sit and watch any NFL game, if you're comfortable in that sort of environment.

What I did, instead, was balance my laptop on the arm of a fat comfortable chair here in the room. Tuned in chron.com, kept up with the game via John McClain's tweets, while reading a great Ian McEwan novel.

This could represent a significant change in my life.

Instead of watching football for three hours, I could follow the scoring while doing something worthwhile. If, that is, I could get McClain to tweet a little more often.

Lots of young couples and new babies in this part of town. A common sign on business fronts, "No Strollers Allowed." Because they're huge. Strollers everywhere. Entire traffic jams of strollers.

We went to Brooklyn on a matter of family business. I'd never been there before, but I'd seen pictures and read Brooklyn stories, so I knew all about it. Of course, I was wrong.

Brooklyn seemed to me, after a quick tour, pretty much like any big city I've ever known. Partly industrial and somewhat dreary. Mostly residential in an ordinary way. Partly residential in an extraordinary, multimillion dollar way. People on the streets? Mainly young.

Brooklyn is a borough of New York City, but it's big, home to more than 2.5 million souls. A Houstonian visiting there is likely to hear that if Brooklyn were independent, it would replace Houston as the nation's fourth largest city.

Time to pack up and start home. See you on the front porch at Winedale.